


Royal Flush

by Misty_Floros



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cardverse, F/F, Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23118991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Floros/pseuds/Misty_Floros
Summary: “There’s a haze around my mind all the time. There’s something beyond what we know, Alice, I’m sure of it.”Alice called in sick to work, and after a breakfast consisting of a glass of whiskey headed straight for the casino.
Relationships: Amelia F. Jones & Alice Kirkland, Amelia F. Jones/Alice Kirkland
Kudos: 11





	Royal Flush

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: war, blood, injury.

“Alice, are you awake?“ Amelia whispered as quietly as she could into the darkness of the tent. She didn’t want to disturb her friend’s sleep, as today’s training had been especially demanding, what with the endless cold rain, but the thoughts weighing on her mind were too much to bear and were beginning to make her desperate.

Alice’s woollen blankets rustled as she turned to face her. “What do you want?”

“I’m so afraid of shooting people,” Amelia said, quietly and in a rush. “I’m afraid I’ll...” she whispered the next part, “that I’ll enjoy it. That I’ll become a monster.”

Alice sighed but didn’t reply. Amelia didn’t expect her to; Alice wasn’t what you’d call an expert on comforting people.

“I wonder, how long can this go on? Has it always been like this? I mean, it has as far as I can remember, but there must be… Alice, this isn’t how the world is supposed to work.”

Someone on their left snored loudly and shifted in their sleep. Alice waited for them to settle down before replying, “You know it’s not good to think this way. There is war. That’s a fact. We can win it, and when we do, a legitimate government will be established, and then things will go from there.”

Hearing Alice’s steadfast rationality and certainty, Amelia calmed a little, but then the desperate feeling she’d felt before returned. “It’s so fucked up, though. The so-called legitimate governments which have been installed have all gone corrupt or have been overturned,” Amelia recounted frantically. “There’s a haze around my mind all the time. There’s something beyond what we know, Alice, I’m sure of it.”

“Are you getting philosophical now?”

“Maybe. I just think… I think there was peace, once.”

“Oh really, this again?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t believe it. You’re so much better at thinking out of the box and shit than me. I don’t know why you’re… you know. Forcing yourself back into that box all the time.”

“It’s a way to stay sane, Amelia,” Alice said and turned her back to her. “I need to sleep now. You’d better get some shut-eye too. Who knows when the campaign will begin. It could be soon.”

Amelia stared at the fabric of the tent billowing slightly in the wind before whispering, “I just don’t know what to do. Why can’t everyone just hug it out or something?” She chuckled, feeling herself tear up at the same time.

Alice turned to her again. “That’s not how it works, but if you want a hug… I suppose I’d be amenable. These bunks are bloody narrow, though.”

“Thanks. I have an idea,” Amelia told her and hopped out from under her blanket, the cold air giving her goosebumps. She lifted her bunk bed and quietly carried it a yard to the right, nestling it against Alice’s. The bed wasn’t exactly light, but Alice always said Amelia was uncannily strong.

As if she could talk—there were quite a few uncanny things about Alice herself, for example the way she often seemed to know about events before they took place. Speaking of, if she’d said the campaign could begin soon, it was likely to really begin soon, even though she was nowhere near high enough in command to be informed about such a thing.

Their bunks pushed together, Amelia lay down close to the other woman and put her arms around her middle. Alice embraced her in return, and the sensation of _wrong_ around the edges of Amelia’s mind diminished.

* * *

Alice didn’t normally skip work. She needed the money in order to play, so it’d be unwise to give up a source of income. She looked outside at the infuriatingly blue sky and opened a window. An unexpectedly cold gust of wind streamed into the room, and her insides twisted into knots. She felt light-headed, wanted to vomit even though she hadn’t eaten anything in three days, and she knew she had to win today. She would win all the money she’s lost back and then some, and her parents would talk to her again. Or they wouldn’t. After all, they thought she was insane, and a victory wouldn’t change that. She called in sick to work, and after a breakfast consisting of a glass of whiskey headed straight for the casino.

Her heartbeat was calm, her face impassive. She’d won before, of course, but she could care less about winning money. She should care more, she knew, considering how close she’d come to squandering the last remains of her inheritance, but what mattered—what mattered were the cards.

The classy lady on her left folded. The dealer collected her two cards. There were four cards laid out on the table. The flop consisted of the eight of hearts, the jack of spades, and the ace of diamonds. The turn card was the ace of spades.

In her hand, there was the ten of spades, and the queen of spades. She’d had this combination so many times that the cards’ design had etched itself into her mind irrevocably. The ten was quite unassuming, but the queen of spades bloody mocked her every time. The majestic dark blue cloak, smug pale face and piercing green eyes. She knew it was her own face on that card, and it drove her crazy. She didn’t even look at the picture anymore when she got it.

Ten of spades, jack of spades, queen of spades, ace of spades.

This would be it, surely. This time, the river would be the king of spades.

The dealer showed the final card—the three of hearts.

* * *

The casualties were bound to be heavy on the rebels’ side, since the government army was at an advantage. They had occupied an old ruin which might have been a luxurious castle in an age nobody remembered and most believed to not have existed, and the rebels were hiding behind a low stone wall below the ruin.

Amelia was by Alice’s side for the time being as they manned the artillery, and Alice was suddenly aware that her friend would be injured. She wished she could convince her to return to the camp, but knew it was too late.

A gunner firing a neighbouring cannon suddenly slumped as he was shot in the back. Alice turned and saw government soldiers clad in black and yellow advance towards them. She unslung her musket from across her back, took aim, and yelled to the rest of the cannon crew, “Try to take cover behind trees, but stay close to the wall.”

She didn’t expect them to comply. Nobody listened to anyone, which resulted in ever-present chaos, and the chain of command existed mostly for show. Such a military worked just as well as you’d expect, the only consolation being that the enemy faced the exact same problem. Elected or appointed, no authority earned respect.

Hate and anger fuelled the soldiers, and they charged at each other like rabid dogs. Where bullets weren’t enough to quench bloodlust, rebels and government forces lunged at one another from up close, stabbing with bayonets.

The entire cannon crew had turned to fire at the approaching enemies, so as soon as she’d taken cover behind a tree, she turned back around to aim at the shooters on the ramparts of the ruin. “Amy, we’ll cover this side.”

“Roger that, Lieutenant,” Amelia said without emotion. In any other situation, she’d mean it ironically, and Alice would tell her she was ridiculous because nobody called her that, as nobody cared she had any military rank at all. But they were both too busy focusing on murdering their compatriots, so the statement remained serious and without comeback.

Alice had all but forgotten about her premonition when she felt as if somebody delivered a hard punch to her stomach. It bloomed to a sharp pain, and she felt sick, glancing down but not seeing any blood against the brown military-issue jacket.

Realisation and with it dread took over her thoughts as she turned to see Amelia clutch her abdomen and lean against the tree trunk which shielded her from one side. Not far from her, a government soldier who had snuck so far forward that they were on level with the stone wall was taking aim with their musket again. Alice was faster, however, and they went down.

* * *

She was holding the ace of spades and the ten of spades. The queen showed up on the flop, together with the ten of diamonds and the queen of diamonds. She considered the queens’ faces. The diamond one certainly looked far kinder. She looked like someone who helped others.

Only two players were left after the betting round, she and a man who she’d never seen around before. He had dirty blonde hair which fell to his chin and in a fringe over his forehead. He radiated cool self-assuredness.

The fourth card turned out to be the jack of spades. The man opened the round, and Alice called the bet.

The dealer uncovered the last card, the king of diamonds. The man went all-in, moving all his chips into the pot, and Alice laid down her cards.

* * *

She rushed over to Amelia and helped her to sit down. Their location was unsafe, but there was no way to get off the battlefield. They were going to be surrounded, she thought fleetingly and dug out bandages which she carried in a kit strapped to her belt. She untucked Amelia’s shirt from her trousers and lifted it up. The wound was oozing blood and Alice hurriedly pressed the rolled-up bandage to it before she reached around the younger woman’s body to check her back. It seemed the projectile hadn’t gone though, so she focused on applying as much pressure as she could on the entry wound.

Brown-clad soldiers were starting to retreat towards the wall as those dressed in yellow and black were gradually closing in on them.

A horn and drums sounded. The noise got louder, and Alice couldn’t figure out where its source was situated—it seemed to be coming from all sides. The sparse forest was soon inundated by people in orange-and-yellow uniforms, and they surrounded the ruin as well. The drums rolled and then fell silent.

A man standing a few yards from them yelled, enunciating carefully, “In the name of the Queen and Jack of Diamonds, lay down your arms, government forces and rebels alike. If you comply, nobody will get hurt.”

Various other soldiers in the circle repeated the message so it would reach everyone.

The government and rebel fighters started putting their muskets down. They simply had no other choice—the orange army was too numerous and as was evident at first glance, far better organised than they were.

“We come in peace,” the man near them announced. “Our primary objective is to help the injured. Carry them to our line and we’ll help them.”

Alice felt as if she’d entered one of Amelia’s musings about a world where everything wasn’t, as she said, wrong. There was no time for distrust, and she picked Amelia up with some difficulty.

“You’re bloody heavy,” she told her. It was a way to channel her inner turmoil and hope somehow.

“I know,” Amelia mumbled, and Alice could tell she was barely aware of what she was saying. She walked as quickly as she could to reach the line composed of orange and yellow.

Panting, she addressed the closest soldiers, “My friend is injured.”

The line parted, and a woman with a white band tied about her upper arm beckoned to them, “Follow me.”

Alice walked outside the row of orange-clad people. She didn’t understand it, but they were safe, and Amelia would get help. They encountered two soldiers carrying a vacant stretcher, and Alice lay Amelia down on it, not leaving her side as they carried her off towards a place where a crew was already setting up a tent. Nurses were rushing about, patching people up, and Amelia was put onto the grass and added to the row of patients.

About twenty people away, four figures were leaning over the injured. Two of them were clothed in plain black robes, and the other two wore bright, fine clothing—one was wearing a dainty orange-and-yellow dress which made them look ethereal and the other a brocade jacket and puffy knee trousers of the same colours. Alice watched as the one in the dress leant over a man in a black-and-yellow uniform who was holding his bloodied arm to his chest. The person in the dress held their hand above the limb for a still moment before distancing themselves. The man let his injured arm fall to his side, moved it a bit, and prodded it. He stared at the person, but they’d already crouched by another patient.

A nurse had dressed Amelia’s wound and was pressing down on it just as Alice had been doing before. Were those four people going to miraculously heal her? The waiting was taking too long. Amelia’s breathing was shaky and laboured, and she’d shut her eyes.

Alice knelt beside her and stroked her face lightly with one hand, resting the other against the side of her neck to check her pulse. It seemed a little too fast. She thought of the damage the bullet must have done inside the body, and she felt powerless in the face of such the cruelty and absurdity.

Amelia lifted a hand up to grasp her wrist, and Alice aligned their palms to hold Amelia’s hand reassuringly.

“I freaking shot them,” Amelia rasped. “I killed people and didn’t feel a thing.”

Alice shushed her. “It’s all right now. These people have come to help everyone.”

“Are they real, Alice?”

“As far as I can tell.”

The nurse pulled a small red flag out of his uniform with one hand and raised it. The person in the dress rushed over, and Alice saw it was a young woman, a girl really.

The nurse stood up to make space for the girl, who knelt next to Alice and placed her hands above Amelia’s bandaged abdomen. The girl closed her eyes, a look of concentration on her face. It seemed to be taking longer than it had with the other patients.

After a while, she said, “It’s not working.” Confusion laced her voice. Alice felt nothing but void.

“Basch, come over quickly,” the girl addressed the other miraculous healer in bright clothing. “It’s not working.”

“Basch” hastened to join them. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not able to heal her,” she said in a small voice.

Basch wasted no time in attempting to heal Amelia the same way the girl had done. “It seems I can’t heal her either. Go help the others, Lili, I’ll try to sort this out.” He removed the bloodied bandages. Alice didn’t look away, even though the sight made her stomach twist. Basch tried again with no outcome. He turned to Alice. “I apologise. I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”

Alice nodded.

Basch’s forehead was creased in thought. “She might be a Spades royal.”

“What?” Alice asked, not sure if she should be demanding clarification about the “spades” or the “royal” part.

“I’m the Jack of Diamonds, and my sister, the girl who was here before, is the Queen of Diamonds. We also have a King and an Ace,” Basch explained patiently. “This, where we are, used to be the Spades kingdom. It used to have royals of the same ranks.”

“I didn’t know that,” Alice said honestly, not quite grasping the information. It made no sense.

“Of course you didn’t. All four kingdoms were destroyed when each of them sent their most powerful mages to battle with one another. We think the reason Spades haven’t recovered yet is that it was here the fight took place.” He paused. “Anyway, it’s possible Amelia is the successor of a former royal. That would mean she can’t be healed by anyone else but one of the other Spades royals.”

Alice didn’t process all of that, but she understood enough to inquire, “So where are the other royals?”

“We don’t know,” Basch said. “I’m truly sorry. I wish I could help. If she truly is a Spades royal, it’s unfortunate we haven’t found her sooner.”

Alice nodded once again mutely. Basch left to tend to the other injured government and rebel soldiers. The nurse cleaned Amelia’s torso and set about pressing on the wound again with clean gauze, disconcertment obvious on his features. Alice leant down and kissed Amelia on the forehead, eyes stinging. Amelia’s clouded-over eyes locked with hers as she pulled away. Alice anticipated death from such a gunshot wound to be slow and painful, and she would be there for Amelia the entire time.

* * *

A newcomer sat down on the vacant chair placed directly opposite Alice. She raised her eyes to look at them. It was a woman about her age, taller than her and dressed in a short-sleeved blouse. Shoulder-length hair curled around her face, which showed an amused but calculating expression, and she was wearing glasses with black frames.

She gave Alice a guileless smile, and Alice thought she would either be the worst poker player she’d ever seen, or one of the best ones.

This was the last game she could afford. She reckoned she would have difficulty paying rent even if she didn’t eat much for the rest of the month, but it was worth it. She’d bought more chips in order to be prepared in case this time would be it.

She was dealt the queen of spades—had she mentioned how bloody sick of that card she was?—and the king of spades. Her heart almost jumped at the rare sight. She was certain she hadn’t even encountered the card today or the day before. The picture was pleasant to look at. The beautiful woman portrayed in it was wearing a cloak resembling the one cascading down from the queen of spades’ shoulders, but instead of serious, she appeared cheerful.

The flop revealed the jack of spades, the nine of hearts, and the ace of clubs. Strangely enough, everyone at the table folded afterwards except for her and the newcomer, who grinned at her and raised the bet. Alice called it and another card was uncovered: the ace of spades.

As before, Alice opened the round and her opponent raised it. This time, Alice re-raised. The other woman’s eyes twinkled as she re-raised again. Alice called and the river was uncovered. It was the ten of spades.

Alice stared at the card in what must have been a glaringly transparent manner, and she feared the entire table could hear the beating of her heart. She checked the cards she was holding once again for good measure and noted that the picture on the king of spades card very much resembled her rival—that if one were to draw her in an Art Nouveau style, the work would end up looking just like the card.

She went all-in. The stranger followed suit, her eyes gaining seriousness. Fixing Alice with her blue gaze, she turned her cards face up. Alice stared at the revealed pictures with bated breath—it was the queen and king of spades. She uncovered her own cards, and two identical kings and two identical queens faced each other on the tablecloth.

Alice’s surroundings blurred and gradually disappeared. The last thing she noticed was the dealer asking security guards to check camera footage and her opponent’s soft, playful smile.

* * *

The idea was insane. If royals with magical abilities weren’t able to do it, how could she? She’d always imagined, albeit quite vaguely, what it would be like to influence matter, both animate and inanimate, with her mind. It was one of the thoughts she’d tried to banish, as nobody pondered such foolish things.

The nurse had said he was going to fetch a medical doctor if there was one. He’d looked apprehensive, and Alice understood why. Their own army had doctors, and their techniques were often drastic, not to mention inefficient.

Alice positioned her hand over Amelia’s wound just as she’d seen the Queen and Jack of Diamonds do and imagined healing the tissue. She closed her eyes to tune out the environs and focused on that image. Her hand tingled strangely and seemed to warm up, but that could have been a sensation produced merely by making herself believe.

Amelia gasped for air and Alice recoiled, afraid she’d worsened her injury somehow.

“Are you all right?” Alice inquired, wincing at the inadequacy of the phrasing. Of course Amelia wasn’t all right.

Amelia opened her eyes. “What did you do?”

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No. I think it’s getting better.”

Alice’s hand hovered over the wound again, and she concentrated the same way as before. After a minute, Amelia sat up slowly and lifted up the layers of gauze, which were soaked red. Under them, there was entirely unblemished skin.

Amelia straightened her bloodied shirt and her gaze became unfocused and bright. Alice looked up at the white-grey sky and felt reality warp and become clear. The haze that had previously hindered her thoughts disappeared to the back of her brain, and the closed-off parts of her mind opened their floodgates. Perception became sharp and she felt a previously unknown energy course through her entire being, and she instinctively recognised it as magic. Newly gained intuition incited her to take the King’s hands.

The clarity the Queen and the King felt spread across the gathered armies, freeing soldiers clad in brown and yellow-black alike from animosity and never-ending struggle. That afternoon, restoration of the Kingdom of Spades began.

* * *

I’m truly going mad, she thought, standing in front of the bookshop. It was a quaint little place with stacks upon stacks of wisdom and imagination crammed onto shelves. It was exactly what an Alice without a gambling obsession would like. Had that Alice ever existed? She wasn’t certain.

But of what she was certain was that the bookshop stood where the casino had been located yesterday.

“This is it. I’m actually insane,” Alice said aloud, because if she was insane, there was no reason why not to act like it.

“Ain’t we all?” someone casually philosophised behind her, and Alice swivelled around to see none other than her opponent from yesterday’s last poker game.

Alice took a deep breath. “Please, tell me we have met before.”

The taller woman’s lips stretched in a grin. “We have. Yesterday.”

Alice’s shoulders relaxed. “Good.”

“You look kinda freaked out. Would a coffee help? I know a real good café a few blocks from here.”

“No, thanks. I need to play, you know? I need to.”

A hand appeared on her shoulder, squeezing, and the woman stated, “You don’t.”

Those blue eyes were still playful behind the glasses, but they were also kind and caring. It was easy to make herself believe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
